


Promises Are Weaved Alongside Unknown Bonds

by ToskaYugen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Revelations, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToskaYugen/pseuds/ToskaYugen
Summary: Harry heard it before finding her. The quiet dejection in the sound she made causing a dull ache to course through his sternum. Even now, voice muffled by stone walls as it echoed up to where he stood, her tone was unmistakable.Takes place during Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	Promises Are Weaved Alongside Unknown Bonds

Harry heard it before finding her. The quiet dejection in the sound she made causing a dull ache to course through his sternum. Even now, voice muffled by stone walls as it echoed up to where he stood, her tone of voice was unmistakable.

The faint fluttering of songbirds, being accompanied by their harmonious twittering became clear to his ears as he made his way towards and down the spiralled staircase.

It was as he stepped down the last few steps next to her that Hermione jolted, reverie breaking as she looked up at him. Harry gestured to the birds in response. A silent question being conveyed.

“Charm spell… I’m just practicing.”

He would’ve had to be deaf in order to not hear the current of raw emotion that laced its way through those words.

Harry, not for the first time, came to acknowledge how her use of magic had become a safety net when need be. A true constant in hers and everyone else’s lives. Something she was always able to rely upon.

And perhaps now wasn’t the time, but it warmed him to see how in-tune she was. The research and dedication that had been put into learning a simple enchantment such as this, how even now she was still honing her craft. That innate drive she’d always held. It was awe inspiring, despite her anguish.

“Well there really good.” And they were.

Finally, Harry sat down next to her, shifting slightly as he starred down at his faded shoes.

“How does it feel Harry?” He turned to look at her, question dying on his tongue. Struck silent by her red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheekbones.

_Merlin, Hermione._

Harry had known it wasn’t jealousy that drew her out of the Gryffindor common room. This was something deeper, a more profound emotion that he daren’t let himself consider. And not for the first time, he found the desire to track down Ron and hex him into the next millennium.

“When you see Dean with Ginny?”

His thoughts came to a roaring halt at Hermione’s question.

_Ginny?_

Since when had he shown even a mild interest in Ron’s sister? The extent he reached would be a mumbled agreement as Ron prattled on about her dating life. Half the time it was only white noise to him.

“Hermione… Why do you think I’m interested in Ginny?”

He wasn’t sure what was worse, seeing the anguish etched in her posture or the piercing intensity he found in her brown eyes as she turned to look at him.

“Your not— but I thought you were—”

“Interested in Ginny.” He finished for her. Receiving a soft nod before she looked away.

Since when had their communication been so appalling? Why or how hadn’t he picked up on Hermione’s ill-conceived thoughts?

_You haven’t exactly sat down and had it out with her recently mate._

Ron. Why in Merlin’s name was his voice the one of reason at this moment?

_If anything, that should be counterproductive._

Harry thought.

“Ginny, she’s… Nice, pretty and caring, looks out for those around her but I’m not— definitely not interested in anything like that with her.”

He chuckled ruefully to himself.

“She’s Ron’s sister for Pete’s sake, I don’t exactly see him being overly thrilled with the concept of me and her ever… You know.”

“I know…” Hermione replied quietly.

“What made you think I was interested?”

Harry watched the way her curls bounced in the gentle breeze flowing through the large stone windows.

“The way you look at her—”

“Is as if I’m interested.” She scowled at his interruption this time. A faint smirk curving his mouth, as Hermione nodded begrudgingly.

“I mean, I kind of have to look at her sometimes otherwise I think Ron and the rest of the Weasley’s would kick my arse.”

“Stop it.” She said, swatting his shoulder with her palm. Harry only smiled. Noting for the first time that she’d stopped crying.

“How is the way I look at Ginny any different from how I look at Cho or Luna. Merlin Hermione, how is there any difference between how I look at _you_.”

“You’re my best friend.” She said simply.

Harry sighed.

“I know—”

“No Harry, _you’re_ my best friend.” That gave him pause this time around. The words weaving their way through his chest. Yet all he could find was a dull ache upon hearing them, his heart constricting as each letter sunk further and further.

What if that wasn’t all he wanted to be anymore? That it was no longer enough?

_Don’t be so bloody selfish Potter._

Harry knew that this line of thought was where true lose lay. That if Hermione were to discover how he felt, what he’d been supressing since fourth year and perhaps even longer, their partnership would be fractured. Irreversibly wounded to its core. And he couldn’t lose what they shared, even if it meant caging away his own wayward desires.

“The way you look at me, it should be different.” She continued.

“Who you’re interested in, Cho, Ginny— and before you say anything I know— their girls you can have relationships with. Girls that like you… They’re not your best friend.”

_I know._

He Thought Dimly.

_But what if that’s the reason why?_

Each time he would stray or show even a growing interest in someone, that spark would quickly fizzle. Extinguished by unconscious comparisons he would make between them and the woman sat beside him.

Unable to solidify any real connection with someone due to his own delusion.

How was he expected to move on from something he’d never been able to explore? That it laid the groundwork of failure for any budding relationship. An image of someone he held others too, how was that fair to any of them?

“Harry?”

He turned to look at her. Finding a glint of curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you think it was different?... The way we look at each other I mean.”

That was the question wasn’t it? One he had hoped Hermione wouldn’t have pushed.

_But why shouldn’t she?_

It was the seed that had rooted this entire conversation. One he was irrevocably responsible for. One he now had to _answer_ for.

“Ginny and Cho, I’ve—”

He murmured a quiet, rueful laugh to himself. Gaze shifting to look down at his laces.

“I tried you know. Tried looking at them in that way, I really did. I mean their pretty, I’m not blind but their not—”

_Come on Potter._

“Not you.”

It was more of a tired exhale than any form of coherent words.

Hermione sighed next to him.

“I know Harry, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Her response gave him pause. Brows furrowing as he turned to look at her.

“What do you—?”

“I’m your friend. Cho, Ginny, their girls you can be—”

“Hermione, I know what your trying to say.”

“So why are you saying that their not…” The clarity that flittered across her face was sobering to the both of them.

_Have I really been that dense?_

Hermione thought to herself.

She was sent rearing back to fourth year and the Yule Ball. How Harry had watched as she descended the stairs for the first time that evening. As if transfixed.

Two years. And in that time, she hadn’t noticed?

_Yes. Yes, I really have._

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t—”

“Don’t.” It was an order more than anything else.

“Don’t say that this isn’t what I want to hear.”

Harry hung his head dolefully.

“Sorry.”

“Will you stop apologising! There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

That caught his attention. Harry turned to look back up at her.

“Hermione—”

He was cut off however, by the sound of an overly trill sniggering echoing up and into the room. The sound quickly followed by a joyous looking Ron and Lavender.

If the ground could have swallowed them whole, Harry would’ve been inclined to have let it in that moment.

The four of them eyed one another questioningly, before Lavender let out another overly grating snicker as she turned to look at Ron.

“I think this rooms taken.” She said haughtily. Clutching at his arm desperately as she tried to pull him with her.

Ron stood his ground however, Lavender disappearing a couple of steps down from where they emerged.

“What’s with the birds?” He asked, eyes flickering between the other Gryffindors.

Before Harry was able to form a rebuttal, Hermione had rose from her seat next to him. Her shoulders tense and posture coiled.

“Oppugno.” She uttered sourly.

He watched as the five songbirds circled around her head before falling into a lined formation. Bolting straight towards Ron as their twittering became more erratic and disorderly.

Ron’s stricken expression as he narrowly avoided them caused the corners of Harry’s mouth to tick upwards. It was after he had headed a hasty retreat and gone after Lavender that Hermione turned to sit back down.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Mischief danced in her eyes as she turned to look at him, dimples deepening and posture loosening as a soft smile curled the edges of her mouth. Harry struck silent by the beauty he found in the curve of her smile and golden flecks that danced within her deep brown eyes.

_Merlin, she’s beautiful._

“Hermione?”

She hummed at his words, turning to stare at where Ron and Lavender had stood. Harry taking her response as an affirmation to continue.

“What is Ron to you?”

That was the question he found had thrown a thinly guised veil over his affection for the Witch next to him. A barrier he’d allowed to be built in the hopes of quelling his wayward desires. Yet all it had accomplished was to distance the two of them. A consequence of his own actions he knew. But it had done little to sway him from his course, one which lead to this moment, where he stared in the face of true lose and true gain. Barley daring to let himself believe of what could be forged between them.

Hermione’s dry mummer of laughter finally pulling him from his pensive thought’s.

“I thought I knew, before the game he seemed… Interested? Would be there when you went to see Albus or stayed behind with Slughorn and I thought maybe— _Merlin_ I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not.” He wondered if she knew how deep the truth behind those words ran.

“But then he and Lavender— at the party and I realised he can’t have felt anything more for me than he did for Ginny.” She smiled wryly.

“I’m almost grateful.”

Her parting statement cut through his thoughts, sharp and intruding as he was brought to an abrupt halt. Brows furrowing as Harry turned to look at her. Hermione’s gaze distant as she looked out into the room.

“Because what I felt for Ron— what I thought I felt for him. He showed me that it was something else entirely.” It was this that made her finally turn to look at him. Being met by bright green eyes that studied her questioningly.

_Don’t tell me I have to spell it out for him._

“But you were—”

“Crying?”

He nodded.

“Harry, I’d just seen the person I fancied make-out with another girl in-front, the entirety of Gryffindor. Before then realising I felt nothing more for him than I did for any of the other Weasley’s.”

“I was more upset with myself for being an utter dunce than I was at Ron or Lavender.”

What cracks had eased their way through his resolve, were already loosening his crumbling resilience.

“So, you and Ron, there’s nothing—"

“Nothing at all.”

“Thank _fuck_.”

Before either of them could make any declarations of endearment or question one another further, Harry had wound his arm around her waist, adjusting his position for her to more easily be pulled against him. Chest to chest.

It was as Hermione stared into glistening pools of green that she felt his hand trace the delicate line of her cheekbone. Eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s mouth slid over her own.

Their surroundings blurred, the faint breeze that flowed through the large stone windows falling on deaf ears as their perspectives narrowed. It was all consuming, blissful and euphoric. Warming the pair from head to toe.

The only thought that pierced their clouded haze being that the others embrace felt like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute since I wrote anything, and after a re-watch of the HP film's and this scene burrowing it's way into my head here we are!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated!


End file.
